


The Boy Next-Door

by sonyanevermind



Category: Utsukushi Alternate
Genre: Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 03:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5896807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonyanevermind/pseuds/sonyanevermind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iraira Odoroki is just your regular, colorful, and sassy manager who works as manager at a small company. One fateful day, he picks up his phone from the Apple store next door, and a very attractive man along with him. His entire life is then flip around and turned inside out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy Next-Door

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fortyfiveangrycats](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortyfiveangrycats/gifts).



> this fic is dedicated to ozzie, who designed these wonderful characters, gave them colorful peronalities and gorgeous hips, and requested me to write this. youre my main meme, Teddy Bro-osevelt. ily

        Iraira stared at his reflection in the mirror above his sink. He reached to straighten his neon green tie and smooth back his dark brown hair, virtually removing the bedhead he woke up with. With a skip in his step, he walked straight out the door, swiping his car keys and - wait. His phone was missing. He checked his coat pockets and the pockets of his casual work pants. Then it hit him.

_That's right, I took it to the Apple store._

        Iraira mentally face palmed himself as he remembered how he dropped his phone while texting a co-worker and shattered the screen completely. Damn iPhones, their screens are like paper.

        Iraira made a note to himself to pick his phone up after work. He remembered his previous visit, talking to a middle-aged female associate who kept telling Iraira how stupid he was for shattering the screen and that he had to pay an "idiot's fee". Hopefully this time will be different.

        He sighed, hopped into his car, and drove off to his central office, where he worked as a manager.

        He was a good manager, according to his co-workers. He was very entertaining, and threw the best office parties. The only problem was that he stood in the corner of his own parties. He was fine on his own, but when it came to large groups, he felt like a turtle who just wanted to climb back into it's shell. With such a charismatic attitude, it was only fair that it was balanced out by social anxiety.

        Iraira's Nissan rolled into his personal parking spot and purred as the engine shut off. The car was very old, something that was passed down from his parents to him while he was in high-school. He's twenty-five now, driving around in a little garbage can that could fall apart at any moment. There were still small car stickers from when he was a teenager, saying things like "Our Kid Made Honor Roll". It was slightly embarrassing, picking up a date with the words "Our Son Is A Volleyball Champ!", but he didn't have the effort to clean them off. They were like his battle scars.

        Checking himself in the car mirror once more, he puffed up his chest with confidence and swung the car door open. He walked through the lot, judging the other cars of his co-workers, and considering getting a new car. He finally made it to the door, and cleared his mind.

* * *

         Focusing during the work day was difficult for the poor man. His inner anxiety was starting to build up because his phone wasn't present. What if a robber comes and steals something from his office. How would he call the police? Not even his wired telephone worked at the moment. The wires fried a few days ago and Iraira was expecting a new one soon.

        He couldn't take it. He stood up from his rolley chair and walked right out of his cubicle.

        "Iraira?" his best friend, Sogen, asked, "Where are you going? You still have a meeting at five."

        Iraira wanted to avoid the question as much as he could. It was so stupid that he was leaving in the middle of his work day just because of something so minor.

         "Don't worry..." Iraira chuckled nervously, "I'll be back in time for the meeting. I just have some... other matters to take care of." Iraira gave him a meek smile, displaying a message that said "Please don't ask more it's embarrassing." Sogen shrugged and carried on with his business.

        "By the way, Shikyo finished her late progress reports. I'll put them on your desk for you to analyze when you return." Sogen added. Iraira widened his fake smile and thanked his co-worker quickly, before sprinting out the door. The Apple store was, conveniently, right next door. Iraira made sure he looked a bit more presentable than last time, and prayed that he wouldn't get verbally harassed when he walked through the door.

        He pushed the glass door open and stopped.

        It was as if the world stopped spinning, like time is being suspended in the air around him.

        Behind the polished, white counter was a young man, probably around Iraira's age, with gorgeous deep red hair and burnt brown eyes. His skin was pale and freckled and he wore a black-and-red plaid flannel shirt with light blue skinny jeans. His hips where especially emphasized in the jeans, and his thighs where gloriously large...

        "Sir?" the young man asked. His voice was masculine but had a slight rasp to it. It sounded like a symphony in Iraira's ears.

        "Have you come to pick up your phone?" he asked a bit more clearly, fidgeting with his hands. He was clearly a bit new to the job, and had never dealt with customers who just stood and stared at him in awe.

        Iraira cleared his throat, prepared to speak like a professional business man with a respectful resume.

        "Can I pick you up instead?" he thought to himself. Iraira chuckled a bit, knowing he'd never actually say that. He was staring at the ground now, trying to stop staring at the beauty in front of him.

        He looked up to respond to his previous question, but only found the man's pink face buried into his hands.

        _Crap._ Iraira thought, his face turning from pale to red, _I actually said that, didn't I?_  

        The once light and fluffy air turned thick and filled with tension. Iraira was about to just turn around and leave, when he heard the little raspy voice yelp.

        "I'm free." the young man said. He was no longer facing Iraira, for he was too embarrassed to show his face. Iraira was more surprised that the guy didn't respond with disgust. Iraira lifted his hand from the door handle and approached the counter.

        "What's your name, gorgeous." Iraira thought. Iraira knew this time he DEFINITELY did not say that one. If he had his entire life would -

        "T-Toshi Matsumotou. I'm free at eight tomorrow." Toshi blurted out, before quickly covering his boiling face.

        _Smooth one, Iraira. You just had to say that one..._

Iraira extended his hand, expecting a handshake. 

        "My name is Iraira Odoroki. I work for the company next door, and I'm single." Iraira smiled. On the inside, he was truly hoping he didn't actually say that last part. Knowing what happened so far in this conversation, he wouldn't be surprised if he has. 

        "I'm single, as well. Um... has anyone ever told you that you have very lovely eyes?" Toshi responded, his cheeks forever tinted with a rouge color. 

        Iraira also blushed as he heard the compliment. His eyes were emerald green, and always had that little twinkle in them that lit them up like the night sky. He's received may compliments on them before, but for some reason, this was the only time it made his heart throb.

        For a few moments, they just stood there in silence, looking each other straight in the eye, feeling each others presence.

        It was bliss.

        Finally, the two men snapped back into their senses, and began to part.

        "Same place at eight?" Iraira said a bit too loudly. Toshi smiled and began filing some papers.

        "Yeah. I'll be waiting," Toshi smiled, stopping all of his movement, "gorgeous."

        Iraira's heart stopped. His own pick-up line was used against him? And it worked? Iraira was shocked. He could also feel the blood rushing up into his cheeks and to his ears. Before it got to noticeable, he ran out the door and back into his office building.

* * *

        Iraira couldn't focus for the rest of the day. Not only did he end up forgetting his phone, he also had someone new on his mind.

        Toshi Matsumotou.

        The name rang in his ears like little bells, bouncing back in forth like a tennis match. He would doodle his name in the margins of his notebook, hearing his raspy voice repeat the sentences of his co-workers. He couldn't present properly at his meeting because he'd end up falling into a giggley fit. Sogen was quick to pick up on his abnormal behavior, and decided to consult him.

        "Iraira?" Sogen asked, peering into his cubicle. Iraira practically jumped out of his seat, obviously startled by Sogen's unannounced appearance.

        "You've been acting more stupid than usual after that little... thing you went to at noon. Something obviously happened."

        Iraira's ears turned a bit pink, and Sogen pulled a chair from a neighbouring cubicle.

        "Well," Iraira started, "I went to the Apple store to pick up my phone which had required repairs. All was fine until..." Iraira choked on his words, almost too embarrassed to say them out loud.

        "Go on." Sogen assured, placing a hand on Iraira's shoulder. Iraira took a deep breath and continued.

        "I saw the cashier. He... His eyes are a gorgeous, dark shade of brown, and his hair is such a deep red it looks artificial," he chuckled a bit, thinking back to what happened at the store, "he was wearing some adorable flannel, and had sky blue skinny jeans that contoured his nice hips and his thighs..."

        "Iraira," Sogen looked him straight in the eye, a seriousness glossed over his usually relaxed face, "you're in love." 

 


End file.
